


kick off the sunday shoes

by karasunonolibero, keysmashlesbian



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, Light Pining, M/M, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunonolibero/pseuds/karasunonolibero, https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysmashlesbian/pseuds/keysmashlesbian
Summary: Claude isn’t sure if he’s looking for a bug or a dead animal, to be honest. Maybe even some ugly piece of jewelry that offended Hilda to the point of screeching and ruining his day.What he doesn’t expect to see is a pair of flip flops.~or, a mysterious pair of shoes shows up at the Officers Academy, and somehow it falls to Claude to crack the case.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	kick off the sunday shoes

**Author's Note:**

> alternately titled: rhea, feet, and other abominations of nature
> 
> this happened because [rain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainCloud10/pseuds/RainCloud10) misread a message i (karasunonolibero) sent earlier today and thought 'lip gloss' was 'flip flop' so here we are
> 
> and also because we believe yuri and claude should have supports and we will die on that hill

It starts with a scream. 

It’s a sad state of affairs when Claude can confidently say that he’s fully used to random screaming at all hours of the day. Hilda’s screaming, Bernadetta’s screaming, Lorenz’s screaming, people screaming at Felix—the list goes on. And that’s not even mentioning the Demonic Beasts lurking around the monastery or random instances of kidnapping. It’s been a weird year.

So no, he doesn’t pay the scream any mind. He’s too focused on a poison recipe he found in one of the banned books that somehow ended up in Abyss. Yuri slid the book across the table during lunch the other day, when Byleth had been distracted by, who else, Felix getting screamed at by Lysithea for no apparent reason. 

“So what do I owe you?” Claude asked, trying not to give away that he was _this_ close to knocking over his chair and sprinting back to his room.

Yuri winked, and then his hand snuck out and snagged Claude’s berry sorbet right off of his plate. It seemed like a fair trade.

Claude flips the page, trying to mentally calculate how many herbs he’d need to make seven doses of this stuff when Hilda runs into the classroom, still screaming, and plants herself directly in front of his desk.

Claude looks up very slowly. The speed is a conscious choice. “Yeah?”

“Did you seriously hear me scream and do nothing?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

Hilda huffs, and Claude doesn’t have any time to brush her off before she’s hauling him out of his chair. Damn, for someone who regularly wrangles Sylvain into carrying her books back to the library, she’s still strong. She drags him outside, past—

“Yuri? What are you still doing up here?”

“Spying on you.” Yuri shrugs from where he’s leaning against the Golden Deer classroom’s door. “You plus poison is enough cause for alarm.”

“Aw, you find me suspicious?”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Well, I’d say I find you more—”

“Can you two stop flirting for three seconds? There is something _actually_ suspicious right here!” Hilda interrupts.

It’s comforting to know Yuri also forgot Hilda was there, if the flustered look on his face is any indication. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, because Hilda’s nearly dislocating his shoulder yanking him across the courtyard.

Claude isn’t sure if he’s looking for a bug or a dead animal, to be honest. Maybe even some ugly piece of jewelry that offended Hilda to the point of screeching and ruining his day.

What he doesn’t expect to see is a pair of flip flops. “ _What_?”

Hilda stops screaming. Are his ears ringing or is that the bell tower signaling the afternoon break? “What are _those_?” she shrieks, pointing to the offending pair of shoes. 

Claude squats to take a better look at them. They’re dyed green leather, fairly average size. He pokes at one and then realizes that’s told him nothing. 

“Hilda, Clau—” Dorothea stops mid-sentence to stare. “Are those _flip flops_?”

Hilda wails in response, and Claude can feel a headache creeping behind his eyes. “Yes, unfortunately, they are.”

“Who in their goddess damned mind would be caught dead with flip flops?” Dorothea recoils, as if the shoes personally called her a terrible singer in front of the Officers Academy.

“Can you all stop your screaming? Not all of us like to slack off on our breaks,” Lysithea grumbles, sticking her head into their little cluster. “This is what you’re shrieking over? Shoes?” 

Hilda kicks at the flip flops. “We have to find out who these belong to. Fast.”

Claude sighs. “Why?”

“Maybe they belong to the Flame Emperor, Claude! Are you even thinking?”

Lysithea looks like she wants to Dark Spikes herself, and honestly, Claude can’t blame her. “Why does this matter?”

“Why does it matter? _Why does it matter_?” Hilda’s voice rises to a pitch that only the stray dogs in the marketplace can hear. “If they’re a noble, they need to be punished. If they’re a commoner, they need to be bullied. If they’re a teacher, they need to be fired!” Dorothea nods in solidarity.

“What about one of the knights?” Lysithea asks.

“Excommunicated!”

“What about Lady Rhea?” Claude eggs on.

“Miss Rhea would _never_.”

“ _Miss?”_ Lysithea squeaks.

“That feels sacrilegious,” Claude says. Not that he cares, but maybe she’s listening. 

“You know what else is sacrilegious?” Hilda points at the shoes.

“Fine, _fine!_ Let’s just get to the bottom of this so everyone can stop talking about Rhea and feet and other abominations of nature.” Claude sighs. This wasn’t the mystery he wanted but damn it, it’s the mystery that’s fallen into his lap. 

“Great!” Hilda breaks off a tree branch and slowly, carefully, like they’re poisoned, raises the flip flops from their resting place.

“How brave of you,” Yuri deadpans.

“Here.” Hilda shoves the stick at Claude’s chest. Great, now he’s got a stick with flip flops dangling off the end. “So who has ideas?”

“Well, obviously it has to be a person with feet of that size,” Lysithea says. “So just measure the shoes and then compare.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Hilda whines.

“You’re the one who—nevermind.” 

“Maybe Lorenz could measure for our house,” Claude suggests. “I mean, he probably already knows everyone’s shoe size.”

Dorothea blinks twice. “I hate that, thanks.”

“All right, then what about your house?”

“Now that you mention it, Hubert probably knows, too,” Dorothea muses. “I mean, anything that could be a threat to Edelgard.”

“How are feet a threat to Edelgard?” It’s Claude’s turn to blink.

“Have you been around Caspar after he trains?”

“Fair point.”

“What about you?” Hilda rounds on Yuri, who just sighs.

“You’re asking if someone who lives in a sewer would wear flip flops?”

“Nevermind!” Hilda seems unfazed. “Well, if we want to cover our bases, we still need an in with the Blue Lions.”

“Why would anyone in Faerghus own flip flops?” Lysithea, the only smart person around, asks.

“That’s exactly why they wouldn’t know how offensive they are!” Hilda throws her hands in the air. “I could totally see Felix thinking there’s nothing even remotely wrong with them.”

“Please stop talking about Felix’s feet,” Dorothea says.

“I’d really like to stop talking about everyone’s feet, actually,” Claude says.

“You and me both,” Yuri grumbles. “But, I guess you don’t have to worry, friend. I know a guy.”

“A foot guy?”

Yuri levels Claude with a glare that has him fearing for his life, as well as the book of poisons he only just got the chance to crack into.

“I’m not in that kind of business, von Riegan.” Yuri puts his hands on his hips. “I know someone in Blue Lions who’d be able to help us out. He owes me one.”

So that’s how Claude ends up carrying the shoes, still on the end of the stick, up to the library while Yuri makes a beeline for Ashe. Poor, unsuspecting Ashe.

Yuri slides into the seat across from Ashe and yanks his book out from under his nose. “Hey, my thieving friend. You’re small. Quick. I need you to do us a favor. Can you measure everyone in your house’s feet?”

Ashe looks alarmed. Claude can’t tell whether it’s the bluntness of the request, the theft of his book, or the shock of being accosted by five people he’s barely spoken to. “I—”

“So is that a yes?”

“You’re asking me to measure the future King of Faerghus’ feet?”

“Absolutely.”

“Can you even guarantee I wouldn’t die?”

“Nope! It’d be for an honorable cause, though.” Hilda winks. “A knightly one.”

Ashe doesn’t look too convinced. “What kind of honorable cause involves feet?”

“Okay, listen, I didn’t want to have to show you this.” Yuri gestures towards Claude, who is still, unfortunately, holding the shoes. He lifts the stick up so Ashe can see.

Ashe visibly shudders and scoots his chair back a few inches. “What are those horrible things?”

“A sin against the goddess,” Hilda tells him. “So that’s why you need to measure feet. We need to find the owner so they can be punished for their crimes against the church.”

“That still doesn’t seem like a very good reason…”

“How about this one.” Yuri smacks the table, making Ashe jump. “Because you owe me.”

Yuri and Ashe stare at each other, and Claude is convinced an entire conversation is taking place in another dimension. He sees Ashe’s eyes widen, Yuri barely nod, then Ashe raises an eyebrow, which causes Yuri to blink once.

“Well, I suppose it must be done.” Ashe sighs.

“I have to say, I’m a little honored you’d cash in a favor for this nonsense,” Claude says to Yuri, who smiles. 

“Anything in the name of justice.”

“Once again, can you two stop flirting?” Hilda says. “Come on, we have feet to measure and criminals to punish!”

“I hated every word in that sentence, but okay!” Claude picks up his stick and follows her out of the library.

“Do you really think he’ll be able to do it?” Lysithea asks once they’re out of earshot.

Claude shrugs, watching the bane of his existence swing to and fro from a sticky tree branch. “He’ll probably have better luck than Dorothea, that’s for sure.”

~

“Okay, so Hubert gave me the foot measurements.”

Claude isn’t going to survive the rest of this day, or this dinner, as a matter of fact. “I’m sorry, he actually had them? And he gave them to you?”

Dorothea smirks, waving a piece of parchment in the air. “Let’s just say I read a little something I shouldn’t have.”

“You have blackmail on _Hubert?”_

“Who doesn’t have blackmail on Hubert?” Yuri says, far too nonchalantly for Claude’s comfort. “Could you also tell him to stop lurking in Abyss? He’s scaring the children.”

“Ow!” Lysithea jumps in her seat, and suddenly Claude’s been kicked in the shin. “Can you stop poking me with that stick?”

“Where else am I supposed to put it?” Claude hisses, as if the flip flops under the table are some goddess shattering secret. “If I leave them, someone might take them and there goes the investigation!”

“Do we even know the measurements of the flip flops?” Dorothea asks. 

An astonishing silence answers her.

“You’ve been carrying those things around all day and you didn’t think to measure them?”

Hilda drops her fork and glares at Claude. “Claude, you had one job!”

“I thought my job was to hold them.” Claude mumbles. 

“No, your job is—ugh!” Hilda groans and puts her head on the table. Claude, because he’s such a good friend, picks her hair off of her plate.

“Have you gotten your house’s measurements yet?” Dorothea asks.

“We haven’t asked yet,” Hilda says to the table. “Tomorrow.” And then she picks her head up to shoot a glare across the dining hall. Claude follows it to Ashe, who catches his glance and scoots a bit closer to Dedue. 

“So in the meantime, what do we do with the shoes?” Yuri motions to the stick.

Claude shakes his head. “No way. I am not keeping those in my _room_.”

“Well, we can’t just leave them lying around! Someone might take them and then we’ll never know!” Lysithea says.

“Just stick them in a bush,” Yuri suggests. “They’re hidden, you know where they are, and you don’t have to sleep near them.” 

“What if something eats them?” Hilda asks. “I wouldn’t want some poor thing to have to even look at them.”

“They won’t go in the bush. Not when the dining hall has much tastier morsels,” Yuri points out.

“Please never say the word morsels,” Lysithea groans.

Yuri smirks, leaning in. “Morsels.”

“Morsels?” Claude asks.

“Morsels,” Yuri agrees with a wink.

“Stop _flirting_ or I’ll shove you in the bush _with_ the shoes!”

They—the shoes, not Yuri and Claude—get stashed in a bush by the first-floor dorms. No one will look there. 

~

The thing is, Claude’s used to working on his own. He schemes in his room at all hours of the night, manages to fight off hordes of bandits hiding in the bushes by his lonesome, and can debate a professor into circles without breaking a sweat. He’s a pretty independent fellow, if he does say so himself.

But if he’s learned anything by being at Garreg Mach, it’s that he’s greatly underestimated the value of a team. A crew. A group of people to watch his blind spots when he needs it the most. If he’s going to accomplish his goals, the dreams that span kingdoms and continents, he’s going to need a team he can rely on, as well as a team that trusts him in return. 

Which is why he bites the bullet and knocks on Lorenz’s door the next morning.

Lorenz is never happy to see him, and three hours before their morning classes start is no exception. 

“What on earth are you doing, Claude?” he snaps. He must not have had his morning tea, or done his morning skin care routine, or whatever he does to put him in a tolerable mood. 

Claude clears his throat and stands up as tall as he’s physically able without getting on his toes. “I’m here for the list, Lorenz. I know you have the information and we need it.” 

Lorenz laughs. “The list of my potential suitors? It’s very long. Have you brought something to write it down?”

“I’m not talking about romance. I’m talking about feet.” Claude wedges himself between Lorenz and the door so he can’t be shut out. “Listen. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“What are you _talking_ about? Just because I help two ladies with their foot injuries—”

“That is two more foot injuries than anyone in our house has dealt with. Marianne included, and she’s our healing expert.”

“Well, I don’t have a list of _feet_.” Lorenz looks like he’s two seconds away from closing the door on Claude’s own foot. 

“Listen, Lorenz, buddy, pal.” Claude hesitates. “Friend. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’ll be helping the greater good if you could just hand over—”

Lorenz slams the door on his leg. It’s the start of another bad day.

~

“So hold on. Lorenz Hellman Gloucester does _not_ have a list of Golden Deer foot information?” Hilda whisper-yells. 

“Right?” Claude shakes his head. “The one time I ask him for help and he lets me down. So you know what this means.”

Hilda sighs. “I see we’ll have to take matters into our own hands.”

“Feet, rather. So.” Claude slaps a measuring tape into Hilda’s palm. “For the greater good.”

Turns out their classmates have no sense of the greater good. Leonie gets him in the gut with a kick that would make Jeralt proud. Ignatz gets too flustered and asks too many questions, plus he has surprisingly small feet. Raphael almost breaks Claude’s hand stepping on it. And Hilda doesn’t have much more luck with the others. 

“I didn’t ask Marianne,” Hilda tells him once he’s slunk back to their table.

“Why?”

Hilda shrugs. “It felt too invasive.”

“It’s not invasive if we ask everyone else. Hey, do you think—”

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” Byleth calls.

The door opens and Dimitri, of all people, pokes his head inside. “I’m sorry, Professor. May I ask to borrow Claude for a few minutes? I need to speak with him. It’s urgent.”

Byleth nods. “Sure. It’s not like he’s doing anything but rolling around the floor.”

“Teach, you wound me.” Claude really thought he was being sneakier than that.

“I think Leonie is the one who wounded you, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Teach!”

“Raphael got a good stomp in!” Hilda offers, because she’s a backstabbing traitor.

“Ahem.” Dimitri coughs. 

“Right, right. Coming, Your Princeliness.” Claude scrambles out of his seat and follows Dimitri outside. “So what’s so urgent? Did you just feel like skipping class to hang out with me?” He winks.

It’s not a good sign that Dimitri isn’t cracking a smile. Not even a courteous grin. It’s also not a good sign that Ashe is standing outside the classroom, wringing his hands like a nervous wreck. He’s starting to think Yuri lied about the whole ‘Ashe used to be a thief’ thing. “So, Claude,” Dimitri begins. “I cannot believe you would stoop to such unsportsmanlike tactics ahead of such a pivotal competition!”

“Say what now?” Claude blinks. 

“You really think you could convince someone in my house to sabotage our footwear before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion?”

Oh, shit.

“Now hold on a moment.” Claude raises his hands. “That is the absolute last thing I was even thinking about.”

Dimitri barks out a laugh. “Don’t try your games with me, Claude. That may have worked at the beginning of the year, but you said yourself you wouldn’t be opposed to such schemes.”

“Okay, yes, but you haven’t seen the flip flops.”

Dimitri shifts from angry to confused so quickly it makes Claude’s head spin. “What in the goddess’s name is a flip flop?”

“Oh dear, okay.” Claude rubs his eyes. “It’s like, a warm weather shoe that’s not really a shoe, and it’s apparently ugly as all hell and offensive, so we’re trying to—”

“So a sandal?”

“Yeah, but less.”

“I...see?” Dimitri says, sounding like he does not see at all. “So this...flip flop, you say. You were using it to sabotage the Blue Lions?”

“Oh, please don’t give it that much credit, your highness.” Claude sighs and rubs his temples. “So I’m going to guess it’s not yours.”

“I don’t know?” Dimitri scratches his head. “I’m not sure?”

“It isn’t. Don’t worry your little head over it. Right, Ashe?”

“Don’t bring Ashe into this!” Dimitri snaps, seeming to remember the reason he dragged Claude out of class to begin with. “Pestering me is one thing, but I will not have you doing the same to my housemates! Is that clear?”

Claude doesn’t have the heart to tell him the professor is scheming a way to swipe all of his housemates. He’ll find out in good time.

For now, Claude’s just exhausted. And his hand hurts. So does his gut.

“Fine, fine, if you insist.”

Dimitri nods, seemingly pleased with himself. “Right, well, good day to you, Claude. And best wishes in the upcoming battle.”

Claude watches Dimitri walk off with Ashe, who keeps turning around and mouthing all sorts of apologies to him. That’s when two things happen at the same time. 

The classroom doors open and students start emerging for their lunch break, and the sky opens up and starts dumping rain on his head.

“Great! Thanks, Seiros!” Claude shouts at the clouds. He can already feel his hair wilting and sticking to his forehead. “Just what I needed!”

“Aw, Claude, why are you playing out in the rain?” Hilda calls, completely dry, from beneath the arcade. Lysithea and Dorothea stand next to her, both glaring up at the sky. “Did your little playdate with Dimitri not go well?”

“The Blue Lions are a bust,” Claude yells. “Also, we may need to throw the Battle of the Eagle and Lion!”

“Oh, that’s my department,” Yuri mutters from where he’s snuck up on Claude. Claude absolutely does not shout, thank you very much.

“Not happening,” Lysithea snaps.

“Well, what do we do about the rest of the foot measurements now?” Dorothea picks a wet leaf off her dress.

“The footprints!” Claude waves a hand maniacally towards the courtyard. “We can see everyone’s footprint and measure it against the flip flop! See?”

Claude turns around. The courtyard is a smorgasbord of muddy footprints, overlapping and flooding and fading into each other.

Claude has never wanted to fall face first into the mud so badly in his entire life. 

“Well that’s a bust. Good thinking, Claude.” Hilda gives him a thumbs up. 

“So hold on.” Dorothea pauses. “I just have to say. Are we a hundred percent certain it’s not one of us? Can we really clear each other?”

“Well, since you brought it up, I couldn’t help but find Hilda’s reaction to the flip flops a bit extreme,” Yuri says. “Maybe she’s hiding the shame of owning such ugly shoes?”

Hilda shrieks in indignation. Lysithea shakes her head. “No, that’s a normal reaction. She does that a lot. But Dorothea did happen to be at the scene of the crime when the shoes were found.”

“My classroom is literally two doors down from yours but okay, I guess.” Dorothea huffs and crosses her arms. “If we’re going by that logic, then they might belong to any of us!”

While the girls bicker under the arcade, Claude turns to Yuri. “You wouldn’t betray me like this, would you?”

“Let me tell you something, von Riegan.” Yuri stares at him and leans in close. Then closer. Then closer. Claude can see the slight shimmer of his eyeshadow when he blinks “I. Live. In. A. Sewer.”

Claude nods faintly. “Message received.”

“And there they go! Flirting _again_!” Hilda snaps.

“This is a ridiculous waste of my time!” Lysithea snaps, stomping her foot. “It’s only a pair of shoes.”

“How dare you say it’s only a pair of shoes?” Hilda stomps her foot right back. “They’re an affront to anyone with eyes! How am I supposed to focus on anything else when they’re out there, making the world ugly—”

“Focus? You’ve never focused before in your life!”

“Now hang on a minute.” Claude puts two hands between them, but retracts immediately. He’s seen them in battle and he is not about to lose his other hand. 

“Well it’s a waste of _my_ time to stand here and be insulted! Hilda out!” Hilda stomps away in one direction and Lysithea storms off in another.

“Is your house always like this?” Dorothea asks, vaguely concerned.

“Something like that, yeah. You get used to it.”

“Huh.” Dorothea turns, and her eyes light up as someone passes her. “Hubie!”

Hubert stops in his tracks at her voice, but doesn’t turn around.

“Hey, I just saw Ferdinand heading to the training grounds if you wanted to catch him!” she teases.

Hubert, to Claude’s complete confusion, begins walking faster. Dorothea runs after him, yelling about tea and shining red hair.

“Well, that didn’t work out well.”

Claude turns. Yuri’s the only member of their task force left, standing with him in the pouring rain. His hair is a darker purple, and he’s looking at Claude with an eyebrow raised. Claude’s hit with an overwhelming need to say something, something he’s been wanting to say for a while now.

“How does your makeup not run in the rain?”

Yuri sighs heavily, then gives him a very small smile. “That’s a secret that’ll cost you more than a berry sorbet.”

The torrential rain more or less forces everyone inside for the rest of the evening, so Claude spends the night in his room alone, playing chess with himself and listening to the rain lash against his window. At least the flip flops are safe in their bush.

~

It isn’t often that Claude is left staring at a bush, but he supposed that’s his life now. He’s been staring at this bush for over ten minutes, trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. Or, what he’s not seeing.

The flip flops are gone. Someone actually _stole_ the flip flops. From a _bush_. 

Goddess.

Hilda shows up with Lysithea in tow, their argument from yesterday apparently forgotten, and Dorothea comes by not long after. Claude can’t believe they’re really meeting in front of bushes for flip flops that are _gone_. 

“Should we sing a hymn?” Dorothea asks, staring at the bush.

“For the shoes?” Lysithea asks.

“I don’t know, they were a big part of our lives for a few days. It feels weird that they’re gone.”

“How’d they disappear?” Hilda wonders out loud.

“Maybe they grew feet and walked away,” Yuri says from somewhere behind Claude. Goddess, Claude has to stop being surprised by this guy.

“Are you trying to imply that feet grew a pair of feet?” Lysithea asks.

“Shoes aren’t feet,” Claude points out.

“So shoes grew feet. Like that also isn’t completely outlandish,” Lysithea deadpans.

“The obvious answer is that someone took them,” Dorothea says. 

Hilda looks disgusted. “Who goes rummaging through bushes?” 

“I don’t know, but if they’re gone, then it’s not our business anymore,” Lysithea decides.

“Well,” Claude says after a moment, “if we don’t sing a hymn, should we have a moment of silence?”

No one says anything for a few seconds. Claude assumes that’s their moment of silence. 

Yuri is the first to speak. “So. The shoes are gone. The task force has been disbanded. Can we flirt now?”

Claude blinks. “Wait, what?”

“I’m sorry.” Yuri turns to address Hilda, bowing like some noble at a ball. “Are we _allowed_ to flirt now, your honor?”

“Gross. I’m leaving.” Lysithea makes good on her word and walks away.

“Ugh, it’s like watching my brother get hit on.” Hilda whines. “Hey Dorothea, can I bother Hubert with you?”

Dorothea lights up. “Come on, it’s so much fun!” 

“So is that permission to flirt?” Claude asks as they walk away. “She didn’t say no!”

“I’m standing right here, you know.” 

“So…” Claude says, coughing and trying to keep his voice from rising to an embarrassing pitch. “You want to make poisons with me?”

Yuri looks like he’s going to make some joke, but then he stops. “That sounds really cool, actually. Yes, I would love to make poisons with you.”

“I also have board games.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

~

Across the monastery, Byleth sits on the docks, fishing pole in hand. It isn’t often they get a moment of peace and quiet between slaying demonic beasts and grading papers, but the time they get to spend fishing in peace is well worth the wait.

They cast the line, the _plunk_ of the lure landing in water washing them in a state of calm. The fish are biting, their students are as crazy as usual, and they found their favorite flip flops hiding in the bushes outside their room this morning.

For just today, all is well.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> visit us on twitter!
> 
> [emma](https://twitter.com/keysmashlesbian) / [keely](https://twitter.com/karasnonolibero)


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